


The Phantom of Trost

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [7]
Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Should I apologize or take a bow?, You Decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9889784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: The time since she'd left the MP was lost in a haze of rehearsals, productions, hangovers and cigarette smoke. She'd left to forget--but of course she couldn't escape. Of course trouble would surface again, this time in the form of a masked "Opera Ghost". What are his mysterious plans for the opera house...and why his sudden obsession over her?





	

She ground her cig into the ashtray and slouched back. "I left the MP after I got the news. Couldn't take it. Couldn't stand all the reminders...so I joined the showbiz. Inner Sina theatre. The best. Doesn't matter how many wars loom and titans threaten; as long as there's still money, rich people gonna have a good time. While folks like...like him are out having their faces blown off, the only thing we have to worry about are smaller sets and less booze.” Bitter cynicism tightened in her chest and she dealt with it like always: with a laugh. “It's a big, bold, flashy world--color, sounds, sights, an orchestra thrown in your face every single night, topped with cigarette smoke and gin. There's only enough space in your mind for finding your way through the the sweat and the grit and the backstage mess to where you need to be next. It's enough to drown out the outside world." She half-sighed. "I've always had a knack for singing, as Annie might tell you if she could talk. If she wasn't...well, that's another story.

"Way back when, there was a guy sweet on me but I didn't like him much. I left and joined the MP, but now I needed an 'in' and so far as I could see that was the only plausible way. So I hooked back up, sweet-talked and landed a spot as a chorus girl. It was slow going. He couldn't give me too many favors past just getting me in. Then...the other day. I already gave a testimony to your pal about that case--it's what happened after that I really wanted to talk to you about."  
The inspector leaned forwards, pen and paper in hand, and nodded. "If you please, Miss Hitch, before we get into that I'd like to hear your testimony about the curtain incident as well."

She sighed. "Yeah, alright." She shook her head. "Sorry. I'll try to be more helpful. I keep forgetting...it seems a world ago I was wearing those same patches." She paused a moment, gaze on the floor as she collected her thoughts. "We were prepping for a new production. The girls and I had just finished our ballet number. Two guys I hadn't seen before were tailing our old manager and gawking at us; my old beau was with them. The manager announced he was leaving and was as good as his word, and our prima donna freaked. They argued over something and she made like she was gonna bail for the hundredth time, but they managed to grovel her back and asked her to sing the big aria from the piece to calm down and show what she could do." She took a breath. "So she started singing. She...isn't wonderful. I was looking elsewhere--I didn't see how it happened. There was a huge crash and I turned around and somehow, the stage curtain had fallen and pinned her underneath." She shook her head. "I swear I have no idea how it happened. Reigning theory now says it was the opera ghost."

The man opened his mouth to ask and she half-laughed. "It's an odd thing going around now. Began just a little after I started here, a few months ago. Lots of places have their 'ghosts'--something goes missing, blame it on the ghost. A door slams, blame it on the ghost. But here, with things like this...our ghost is a bit more tangible. He leaves letters detailing how the theater should be run, how much he should be paid..."

"Your ghost wants money?"

"Says he does most of the legwork."

"Mm-hmm..."

"Anyway, after the curtain fell, a letter must have fluttered down with it marked by the ghost's seal. It was apparently for the managers, laying out his normal rules: leave open box no. 5, 20,000 marks for his salary, things like that. So much I gathered from their faces and outbursts."

"20,000 marks?"

"Well, he did turn our theatre around. We were losing out to rivals before he stepped in."

Pencil scratched on paper. "I see. Now according to witnesses, I understand you have a more personal connection with the ghost?"

She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through pursed lips. "I guess. I don't know exactly what it is I've had a...connection with, if you could call it that. It's a voice that coaches me. I wouldn't call myself a crazy person. I mean, they let me into the MP. Never seen too much combat. Saw things I wish I hadn't during the Trost cleanup, but I don't..." she tilted her head slightly. "I think I'd know if I'd lost it. I think other people might be more concerned. I think they might not trust me to keep my head in a new leading role, so I don't think I'm crazy." She paused. "But I have been hearing a voice, yes. Just one. At first it was just when I was sleeping, and then bits and pieces more when I'm alone. Things have gotten stranger since as I'll tell you later, but at the time of the curtain incident that was all I knew."

"You said the voice was male?"

"Yes."

Another note.

"When did you first start hearing him?"

"Maybe two months after I arrived."

"Does it bear any similarities to the voices of anyone you know?"

"I haven't drawn any connections."

The man nodded. "Alright. And after the curtain dropped?"

"Of course all of us were stunned. We pulled it off her and she freaked twice as hard...more understandably this time, though. She ended up leaving. They were panicked because the show was supposed to open that night and they were short both a prima donna and an understudy. I should back up. Our managers do the paperwork, but Madame Giry is the heart of the operation. She's got her finger on the pulse of every single player in the production. She knew I'd been low-key rehearsing for the part. There wasn't an understudy, so she suggested that I take over the role. They had me sing and accepted me on the spot."

The man's face darkened. "I can imagine prima donna is a coveted position. You must be very proud of yourself."

"Of course I am. ...All of us suffered under La Carlotta, but I'm still sorry things went the way they did for her. I'm glad she wasn't seriously injured."

"How easy would it have been for Madame Giry, knowing your talent and possibly wanting to oust the previous prima, to set up the trap? It seems very opportune."

"It does. But that isn't what happened. I know Madame Giry; she has her secrets, but she'd never do something like that. She believes in all of us. We're family. If any of us were to do such a thing, somehow or another everyone would know by the end of the day. It's...the blessing and the curse of the theatre life. So far the prime suspect is our ghost."

The subtle stiff purse to his lips read that he wasn't convinced, but he nodded anyway. "So you participated in the show."

"I did."

"Anything of note?"

"Oh, everything of note." She chuckled. "Otherwise we wouldn't have an opera."

He glared and she laughed. "I'm sorry. It was too perfect. But as far as noteworthy in the non-lyrical sense; nothing. Full house, so that was good. Standing ovation. That was nice. It wasn't until after I got back...that anything happened."

"And that's what you came to us about."

"Correct."

"You said you were..." with raised eyebrows he pulled out her file, flipped through and marked the relevant passage of her testimony with his finger. "Abducted through a secret passage in your bedroom mirror to an underground maze, complete with a pony and a boat ride, to a cave-lair with a working organ and at least 700 candles." His gaze flicked up to her, unimpressed.

She folded her arms and crossed her ankles. "I wrote what I saw. Look, I've been sitting right where you are before. I would've thought it was crazy, too--but more often than not people use 'crazy' as a code for a serious crime. Or maybe they're actually telling the truth, because this is a crazy world where crazy things like that can happen!" 

A mild alarm shot through his eyes and he edged back.

Somehow she'd half-risen and leaned forward. She cleared her throat and sat back in the couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you, Mr...what was it? Nevermind. I wouldn't take this case if I was in your position. But a friend of mine on the force...he would have. And I've seen lives saved because he went the extra mile and spent a few extra hours on something that everyone else said was stupid."

The investigator's shoulders slumped slightly and his gaze dipped. He seemed to stiffen up again and closed the folder. "Well, I've got a few more investigations to make." He looked hard at her. "Especially considering the departure of Ms. Carlotta and your sudden rise to prominence. Goodday." With a curt bow he departed.  
Her lip curled. "Goodday," she growled after the hastily closed door.

**Author's Note:**

> Back with more crossover crack! You're welcome~♪ I believe this started when I somehow realized that the Phantom's mask would perfectly cover a significant injury received by one half (ha) of my favorite snk duo, and sort of snowballed from there. (I don't know why those thoughts were in my head at the same time.) There is more that could be added (like an entire backstory), but time and how much interest I have will determine if it gets any more, hehe :3


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